


He Calls A Mansion, Not a House, But a Tomb

by Roses and Rum (fawnspotsam)



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-01-23
Updated: 2011-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-15 00:26:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fawnspotsam/pseuds/Roses%20and%20Rum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You never know what you'd find on a city bus. Frank Iero had been writing novels for years and had always written the best when he experienced what he wrote. Or at least tried to. He tends to observe life on Earth and everyday life.<br/>He finds it interesting to watch life pass you by each day. How millions of people live their own lives, and no one <i>really</i> knows it.<br/>People focus on their own lives and that's it. No one would see a man at the other end of the bus and know what he's going through in his life at the moment.<br/>Frank notices things and is fascinated by observing life. Until, however, he takes a detour of his usual route and follows an eye-catcher off the bus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Next Stop, Gerard Way

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea when I started high school, and I had to take the bus constantly XD  
> Don't even ASK, how it turned into a Frerard, but it did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very short first chapter, but the second is the same length-ish so it kind of balances out to add up to a good beginning XD  
> The later chapters will be longer, I promise ;)

The teenaged girl looked out the window as the bus began to stir, making the scenery outside shake and drift away. Her earphones blared music of all sorts into her small, peirced ears as she tapped fiercely on her iPod with her thumb rythymically.  
She warily glanced away from the window to see the stranger who sat in front of her stand up and head slowly and carefully towards the bus exit. She sighed to herself and looked back to the window.  
From the front of the bus came a man dressed in dark jeans and a leather jacket. Shoulder-length raven hair fell around his pale, round cheeks. He sat, replacing the person who had left just a second ago.  
The girl with angry music in her ears glanced again from the window, her eyes wide and wondering, to take in the form of the new person. The black-haired man wore simple running shoes, his left shoe's laces undone. He read the newspaper indifferently, seeming to be uninterested. Irritated, wearing a dissapointed frown on his face, he folded the paper and set it on the empty seat beside him.  
I turned my page, peering over it at the two.  
She girl seemed only 16-- 17 years old, at the most-- and yet so intrigued by this man who could not be younger than 26. My eyes sprang from her to the man in a second's turn. It was certainly not hard to be easily entranced by this man.  
His eyebrows furrowed as he nibbled on his thumb nail. His unlaced shoe tapped rythymically on the floor in a beat known only in this man's mind. His eyes-- a hazel-green-- twinkled in the light illuminating the bus from behind rubbish advertisements.  
I bit my lip, pretending to be interested in my stupid newspaper. I swayed, almost falling on my side as the bus came to an abrupt stop.  
I watched as the girl curled a lock of her brown hair behind her right ear, picking up her napsack with her other hand. She stood up, flicking away hair trapped underneath the bag's strap. She took a deep breath and walked down the sparcely inhabited bus, standing on the step with a _woosh_ as the doors opened and allowed her exit.  
My eyes returned to the man. His eyes unfurrowed and laid upon _me_. I blinked, and looked away.  
I've learned that's the only way to lose someone's gaze on a city bus: simply look _away_. Never stare. That's a golden rule on the bus.  
I looked down to my chipped black nail polish. I folded the newspaper and set it on my lap.  
I looked up and saw the man's hazel eyes.  
 _"Next stop, Gerard Way" _Said the mechanical woman on the bus's speaker.  
The man chuckled, his teeth revealing their pearly white selves. I smiled.  
He looked at me and I felt my cheeks burn like mad. I looked out the window.  
For about 20 minutes, we played this game of "see-no-see" until the man pulled the stop request cord. I frowned, but stood up and held onto the balance pole. I wanted to observe this man further.  
I let him walk ahead of me to the exit. A brief polite smile flashed towards me as I let him go first. I followed as he stepped down and onto the pavement.  
I waited until he walked a full 5 feet ahead of me before I began to walk in the same direction.__


	2. Your Dog?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit short, but I hope you like. :)  
> The next chapter will be up soon.

I walked slowly behind the man, my fists shoved into my jacket pockets, holding my wallet in my right and an extra bus ticket in my left.  
The street was mildly trafficked; only two or three cars passed every few minutes. The evening sky glowed orange-yellow in the West, as it transitioned slowly from day to night. The only people on the sidewalks were this man and I. An eerie silence drifted in the air as the pattern of the passing cars ceased and the road fell vacant.  
I broke out of my trance, focusing on the clicking of footsteps on the dry gravel. Suddenly, I heard a song play sharply and I looked to the man as he pulled out his cellphone. He opened it without even looking to the caller-ID and answered happily.  
I tried desperately to hear his voice, but I felt awkward and nosy trying to listen into his conversation. I gasped lightly when I realized I had sped up my pace and gone 3 feet closer to the man.  
"...Behind me..." I heard a excerpt of what the man said and I frowned. I think I scared him, I thought and slowed down.  
The man turned on the sidewalk, heading into a small suburban residential area. I followed him, adding a few feet to our distance.  
I could still practically hear the other speaker in his conversation. And I agreed to it.  
"Just ignore it!" It had said. I wasn't sure if the voice belonged to a male or a female.  
After 5 minutes, walking down the block of houses, the man reluctantly hung up.  
A flash of light caught my eye from ahead. I looked to see a small-framed man walk through the front door of a house, leaning his shoulder on the door-frame.  
The man in front of me seemed to pick up his pace and scurry towards the other boy. I watched as he skipped up the porch steps, skipping every other, and hugged the boy. I tilted my head, watching the affection as they walked back into the house.  
The front porch light, I noticed, stayed on until I was a meter past the house's path. I smiled to myself, seeing a large park at the end of the road. I decided to take a small walk through the dark nature before heading home.  
I sat on a nearby bench, shivering at the cold wood at first. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply. I heard tree leaves rustling in the wind, feeling the cold rush through my black hair as well. The wind carried a sweet smell of flowers and other scents I couldn't quite recognize.  
I opened my eyes and looked at my surroundings. A small children's playground sat in a large sand-box, looking completely deserted in the twilight. A small dog sat itself under a tree next to the sanded area of the playground.  
I looked at it, staring at its dark coat which would have probably looked golden in the sunlight while its right ear was black naturally.  
It stood up, looking at me in turn. I smiled, knowing it would be friendly. If it were a fierce dog, it would have already growled at me.  
It quietly skipped towards me, stopping a foot away. It shyly stretched its neck out towards my pant-leg, sniffing me in a greeting. I smiled as it laid itself onto my foot. I chuckled and carefully stretched down to stroke its head softly.  
Its neck stretched upwards into my palm and I knew it enjoyed my touch.  
I breathed in and out of nowhere, I smelled the scent of tobacco. I sat up properly, spotting a man lighting a cigarette in the distance. Holding his cigarette in his right hand, he whistled softly.  
The dog's ear brushed up against my leg before it jumped up, running towards the man. I smiled and turned to them, my arm resting on the top on the backrest of the bench.  
I would have opened up with something polite or welcoming to say, for example, "your dog?" which would be completely stupid to say, after thinking it over. If it weren't his dog, why would it be so happy to see him? Or even simply saying "hello" would be somewhat awkward.  
But, somehow, I couldn't control myself.  
"Hi, is he your dog?" I made a hybrid of the two worst things I had thought of saying to the man.  
"Uh, yeah..." He whispered. I bit my lip. _Yep, awkward_ , I thought.  
I squinted in the night, trying to make out the man's face. I then realised that it was the man I had followed from the bus. My cheeks burned as I thought this and stood from my seat.  
"I-uum... Bye." I stammered before rushing myself away from the man, passing him towards the park exit.  
I am the worst speaker ever! I mentally slapped myself for being that awkward. How could I just say "bye" like we're in some sort of meaningful conversation that would require the need to excuse myself from? I groaned as I sighed and walked away, glancing towards the same porch light that had dismissed my presence a few minutes ago.  
I scanned the block with my eyes. This house was two down from the left, towards the park. I needed to get better at the "being invisible" thing... I was really interested in this man.  
I heard the faint sound of the happy dog's bark fading as I made greater distance from the house.


	3. "I Hate When He Calls"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 :)  
> I'll try and post new chapters frequently

I unlocked my front door, switching on the corridor light next to me, bothering my eyes for a moment until they adjusted. I shrugged off my jacket and hung it onto a coat rack near my shoe mat where I then placed my shoes.  
I stretched silently, taking a deep, relaxing breath. I wandered into my living room, draping myself across my couch until I noticed the red flashing light of my answering machine across the room.  
I stretched my back and arm as far as I could, begging myself to stay on the couch. I was too lazy for my own good sometimes. I sighed, giving up this impossible task and sluggishly stood up and walked towards the answering machine.  
 _"Frank, hey, hon, how are you doing? It's Abby. I'll be in town next week and I just wanted to know if you'd want to get together. Call me, 'kay?"_ A woman's voice spoke cheerfully after I pressed the blinking button. The woman was my friend, Abigail. 'Abby', for short.  
I had met her on the set of a movie based on one of my novels. She had been cast as the leading role. We became best friends after we met. Nothing more, because she'd been a huge fan and already knew I was homosexual.  
I dropped myself down onto the couch again, stretching out comfortably, closing my eyes, readying myself to hear the next message.  
 _"Hey, baby, how are you tonight? I know you've been a bit lonely and I just want to let you know you have a **free** invitation to sleep over--"_ I stopped the message as soon as I could reach the machine again. I groaned and sat on the floor next to the end table that held my stupid machine. I sighed and dropped to my back.  
I hate when he calls.

 _" **Fraaankieee**." I groaned, squeezing my eyelids tighter, rolling onto my side.  
 **Leave me alone, leave me alone...** I repeated in my mind over and over again.  
" **I know you're in here, Fraankieee...** " The voice became louder and clearer. I flinched as the lights turned off around me. The bedsheets shook as someone slid into the bed beside me. I whimpered, wrapping my arms around my head, as if that somehow if I squeezed hard enough, I might disappear.  
Cold fingers tickled my skin in an eerie manner, leaving goosebumps in their trail as they made their way around my waist. I shivered as the entire hand came flat across my naval, pulling me towards its source.  
I whimpered again, nearly crying even though I knew the worse wasn't over yet. I bit my lip, even though I knew **he** would think that's how I like it.  
" **I'll make you feel better, baby...** " He whispered, leaving soft yet creeping kisses on the crook of my neck. A small squeak whistled through my throat. I found myself unable to speak.  
And I stayed that way until it was over. Until **he** was done. And he somehow felt welcome to sleep in the same bed, cuddling into my chest afterwards. Not even noticing my frozen body, my sickened face, tears about to burst through my shut eyelids._

"Frankie." My eyes snapped open. I looked up to see Richard standing above me. I sighed with relief, wiping my damp forehead on my sleeve. "Sleeping on the floor again, boy?" He asked, kneeling down next to me. I chuckled, smiling weakly.  
Richard is my literary agent. He's also a friend.  
I looked at him shyly, watching as he picked up stray papers that lay on the wooden floors. I watched as his blue eyes gave off a small twinkle, reflecting off of the corridor light which made my shadow from behind me. His light brown hair was neatly combed, with a few strands falling into his eyes following the rules of gravity.  
He looked up to me, handing me the stack of papers he had collected. I smiled briefly before taking them from his hands.  
"No wide smile? What-- _Oh_..." He trailed off, knowingly.  
I sighed, "I hate when he calls." I said, running my fingers through my sweaty hair. My mouth twisted to the side in disappointment, looking down at the floor I sat on. I'd need to shower and mop this part of the floor later on.  
"So... How was your day?" He asked, sitting on the couch, making himself at home as usual. I smiled, sitting across from him in my armchair.  
"It was okay. The usual, for the most part. French class at the New School was canceled today so it gave me more time to research." I explained, leaving out the part of my evening when I had met saw the man from the bus. Hopefully Richard wouldn't ask any follow-up questions.  
"Anything exciting?" Shit.  
I'd always been horrible at lying. I never knew why. I had always gotten caught when I ever even _tried_ to lie about something. I would always start out cool and collected and then I would lose my confidence, get nervous and just break down until I told the truth.  
"I--No--No, not really. It was pretty boring today." I said the smoothest thing that could come out of my mouth.  
Richard shrugged and nodded. I mentally screamed in delight, happy about my first victory ever.  
"So, really, what happened today?" Richard asked.  
My delight jumped off a cliff.  
"Nothing." I said, nonchalantly.  
"Okay, fine. I'm just here to pick up the updates on the next manuscript." Richard explained, standing up. I nodded and scurried out to the kitchen.  
I assumed it was around ten 'o' clock at night as I turned on the light, looking at the dark window on the East wall of the kitchen. My eyes set on the kitchen table and searched for the small stack--if it can even be called a stack-- of 3 sheets of paper. I smiled and picked up the papers.  
I traced my fingers over my pencil marks of notes I had made all over the typed up writing already on the paper in ink.  
Despite the trouble I had been having writing good material lately, I have been able to write a few pages as a prolonged prologue for my next novel.  
It's in the 3rd person. The plot is still developing and I still haven't stood strong on any of the names I had chosen for the characters. It's basically about a woman who had had a boring life, in her opinion. And only after she had forced herself to befriend the strangest group of people, her life had struck up an interest with all her past lovers. They seem more interested in her life, her body and more importantly, her recent luck with money.  
I frowned to myself. It actually sounded pretty ridiculous after thinking it over to myself. Maybe I should ask for another week to work on the update.  
"Frank, did you find it?" I turned to see Richard behind me in the doorway. I nodded shyly.  
"Could I maybe get one more week to work on this?" I asked, looking down at the paper in my hands.  
"Sorry, I can only give you just two days. The agency wants it in really soon." Richard frowned. I nodded.  
"Thanks. I'll give it to you on Tuesday." I said, counting the days in my head.  
"Thursday." He corrected me.  
"Really?" I had lost track of the date, I guess.  
"Yeah. I'll see you Thursday." He said, giving me a short hug, patting my back. I smiled and hugged his back, needing the support. "Do you want me to stay for a little while? I can make you something to eat." He said. I shook my head.  
"No, thanks anyway. I'm just going to go to sleep." I said, setting my manuscript on the table again.  
"Alright, bye." Richard said, heading back through the hall. I took a deep breath, crossing my arms, rubbing my cold forearms with my hands. I turned to look at the fridge for a second. I shook my head, ridding the thought of food from my mind and walked off to my bedroom.


End file.
